


Demons, Angels, and Humans (oh my)

by mitsukunihaninozuka



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-09
Updated: 2014-10-08
Packaged: 2018-02-20 11:23:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2426918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mitsukunihaninozuka/pseuds/mitsukunihaninozuka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Castiel lifted Dean Winchester from Hell he was too late.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Demons, Angels, and Humans (oh my)

**Author's Note:**

> Really proud I actually wrote this before demon!dean was cool. HIPSTER STATUS

Dean Winchester is saved.

 

Well, that wasn’t completely true; Castiel felt his grace ache with grief. That’s what he thought the English word was anyway. Grief. So many brothers and sisters had fallen to save the elder Winchester from hell only for the soul of Dean to be twisted beyond repair.

Castiel had felt agony and rage that twisted and turned that soul into a demon, it was powerful, but he found that Dean’s soul was still beautiful. It must have been the grief talking. There was no way that a demon could be beautiful to a powerful Seraph like himself.

He had felt Dean’s soul caress his grace, and if the angel was being truthful, he had felt love deep in that evil. He watched from his celestial wavelength form as Dean pulled himself free of the gravesite. Determined little demon, wasn’t he?

Castiel left the starved and dehydrated demon to his own devices for a moment, he needed to find his vessel, and quickly. He shook the house of Jimmy Novak and shattered a few glasses, but the man simply wasn’t ready. An angelic possession couldn’t be rushed, so Castiel was frustratingly stuck. He had his orders to protect the Winchesters at all cost, but it would be difficult when the current danger to Dean was his own younger sibling.

Castiel manifested above Dean in the tiny gas station, he knew that Dean’s soul could resonate with his own grace, but was the demon’s body able to hear his true voice? He spoke hesitantly, “Dean?” The radio popped to life and squealed in protest. The demon spun on the spot looking for some unseen evil. He mustn’t remember that he was the same evil now. He scrambled to find salt and dropped the canister with a growl as it burned his hand.

“The hell?” the demon hissed. He crossed to a mirror and began looking over his body. He saw that a pair of black eyes stared back at him. “Hell.” Dean whispered. He lifted his tee shirt to look for the numerous wounds that his soul had endured in hell, but Castiel had been able to scrub his human clean of such blemishes. Dean’s eyes flickered back to his human green as his attention turned to the handprint that Castiel had unwittingly left on Dean’s shoulder. He had possessed another human in the battle in hell; unfortunately he had lost Daniel Novak when he had left his body unattended to fight in his true form.

Castiel was sure that his grace would have a similar mark on it from the demon’s white-hot soul. But he hadn’t manifested into a solid form since his return, so he couldn’t be sure.

“Dean.” Castiel said more forcefully. The ground shook and lights sparked, the demon fell to the floor covering his ears. “Dean?” Castiel asked softer, but the windows cracked and shattered. It was clear that the demon could not hear him. He would have to protect him from this form. How tiresome. What good could a demon do anyway?

 

Dean raced out of the store looking for any sign of whatever had done that, but there was nothing, he was alone. He was alive. He could feel his heart beating in his chest and it felt real. But he had seen those black eyes in that mirror. Was this another torture, or was he a demon?

He didn’t like either.

He shoved some of the stolen change into the payphone and he dialed his brother’s phone, it was disconnected. Of course, Sammy wouldn’t have kept the same phone for this long. According to the papers in the gas station it had been quite some time since his death.

He dialed Bobby next. “Who is this?”

“Thank God. Bobby, it’s Dean.” the line went dead immediately.

Dean redialed.

“This isn’t funny, you call again and I will hunt your ass and kill you.” Bobby growled.

Dean swallowed, Bobby would probably hunt his ass if he were a demon, “It’s really me Bobby, I’m back.”

The line went dead again. Dean stood in the grubby phone booth for a few seconds, perfectly still, until he kicked the glass panel with one boot encased foot the glass shattered out from him.

He needed to find Sam, and Bobby was the best place to start, even if it might be a death sentence. He ran a hand through his hair and walked out to the beat up car in the gas station’s shadow. He hotwired the piece of crap car in a few moments and sat happily behind the wheel, at least he knew he was still useful, even if-.

He killed that thought; he wasn’t entertaining the idea of his current state just yet. He thought it was likely that he was a demon, but he would cross that bridge when he got there.

He was about to pull the car into drive when his vision blacked out.

He was in hell again, screaming, thrashing, and blood. He was cutting into the soul, twisting and slicing. Like what had been done to him. His blood boiled.

Dean smacked his head into the dash, his vision winking back to him, well that answered that question. He was a demon. What did that mean? He felt much the same, but with some obvious changes. He was angry, well more like filled with rage, and he could feel power in his veins. No urge to cook babies and eat virgins. Maybe that would hit him later. Bobby might know. He would put Dean down if that were the case. Which Dean thought was the best idea he had entertained so far.

Sam. Dean hit the steering wheel with a clenched fist, what about Sam? He would want to see Dean, demon or not. Dean wanted to see him too.

Dean shook his head and put the car in drive, he was going to Bobby’s.

 

Castiel was certain that if he could grasp human emotion, he would understand why the demon had spent so much time agonizing about his next course of action. As it was, this gave him more time to speak with Jimmy.

The man seemed reluctant to leave his family, but Castiel calmed him with promises that they would not be harmed, and reassurances that Jimmy would be helping an angel of the Lord.

Finally Jimmy gave him permission. Castiel poured his grace into the willing vessel and smiled when his humanistic sight flooded him. He always forgot the color green when he was in his celestial form, he missed it.

Castiel flew to Bobby Singer’s junkyard in a blink of an eye and waited for the demon to appear. He needed to talk some sense into him. Bobby Singer would most undoubtedly kill the demon, it was the mechanic’s calling on Earth, he was supposed to kill demons. Castiel needed this demon alive. He could have just appeared before Dean, but for some reason he felt that if he did that he might not live through the mistake of surprising a Winchester.

Castiel knocked quietly on the door. It was dirtier that he would have thought.

Bobby Singer was also shorter than Castiel had thought. Or perhaps he was taller.

       “The hell are you doing here?” Bobby growled.

Castiel’s grace was hidden deep within his vessel, and to the untrained eye he seemed entirely human. But there were traces of his true form that bleed through into his vessel, the most dominant traits of his grace. The eyes were a little too blue, which happened to every vessel he possessed, but it seemed Jimmy was more attuned to his grace than most. For when he spoke the deep rumble of his true form’s enochian seemed to have suddenly been translated into English, “Robert Singer?”

“That’s my name, it’s on the sign.” Bobby pointed to the Singer’s Automotive that was over the gravel entrance.

“I see.” Castiel blinked, he needed to appear human, “I need to speak with you in private.”

Bobby narrowed his eyes and then threw water onto Castiel’s face.

“I am not a demon, but your next guest will be.” Castiel growled.

“Now, how do you know about that now?” Bobby’s distrust was growing with every second.

“I am Castiel, and I am an angel of the Lord. I am the one who gripped Dean Winchester tight and raised him from perdition.” The angel paused, “However, it seems, that I was too late.”

Bobby lifted a gun from behind the door and aimed it at Castiel’s chest.

“That will not alter what I have just said.”

“You have a lot of nerve, coming here and talking about that boy to me. Leave now, or I will shoot you full of holes.”

“Robert.” Castiel began, but the man pulled the trigger and a bullet lanced through his chest. Humans are so fragile. Castiel’s grace repaired the damage as soon as it happened, so that it appeared that nothing had happened.

“Robert.” Castiel was once again cut off with a bullet.

“Robert, please stop shooting me.” Castiel’s voice boomed. The lights in the house burst and Bobby Singer’s eyes widened as Castiel revealed a shadow of his wings to the human.

“I need to impress the importance of this situation on you before Dean arrives, you must not harm the Winchester.”

Bobby stood in shocked awe.

“Robert?” Castiel asked. The hunter lowered his gun and swallowed.

“I wouldn’t harm that boy. I don’t much care what he is.” Bobby set the gun down, “If it’s still him in there.”

Castiel’s head tilted to the side, “I assure you that it is Dean Winchester that I lifted from perdition.”

Bobby’s jaw tightened, “Come in.” He was still on edge, but had chosen that this angel was telling some truth.

 

Dean pulled into the drive a few hours later. His eyes flickering with his nerves. He crossed the yard searching for the glint of Baby’s perfectly black paint job, but she wasn’t there. Maybe Sam had her? It was a good sign that he still wanted his Baby, right?

He was going to have to meet Bobby outside. He wouldn’t be able to leave the entrance to the house, or the living room, or the kitchen, or the stairs, or the study. Damn it, Bobby had a lot of demon traps.

He made it to the porch and he took a deep steadying breath. In which time he heard the whisper of voices. One was Bobby, and he couldn’t recognize the other. It felt familiar though.

“Call Sam?” Bobby asked.

The grumble of the deepest voice Dean had ever heard answered, “He will undoubtedly want to see his younger brother. Samuel will need to be informed that Dean has returned. It seems that the explanation of his current state will have to be done in person.”

“He’d never buy it.” Bobby seemed to agree, “He’d shoot you to swiss cheese, even if it didn’t bother you a bit.”

“That would be a waste,” the gravel and sex voice answered, “It seems that Dean has arrived.”

Dean felt his jaw drop, who was this? He reached for his demon knife, and could have laughed at the irony of him seeking comfort from it, if he had found it there in his belt. Instead he was greeted with a panic as he realized he had no weapon.

Bobby wrenched the door open and Dean watched as the man he considered a father begin to cry. “That sick son-of-a-bitch is right. You are alive.”

Dean spluttered as Bobby pulled him into a hug. “B-Bobby, I have something-”

Bobby cut him off, “I know, demon.”

Dean coughed as he drew back his own air wrong in surprise, “H-how?”

He looked beyond Bobby’s shoulder to see a tall dark haired someone leaning against the doorframe to the kitchen. Gravel voice was staring at him with unblinking baby blues when he opened his mouth, Dean had entertained the idea that his voice was sex, now he realized that he was far from right. This man was sex, the voice was just the beginning of his appeal, “I told him.”

“How do you know?” Dean asked his hand reaching for the shotgun that he knew Bobby had there.

Bobby stopped him, “Wouldn’t do any good, I shot him already, didn’t even flinch.”

“The hell?” Dean whispered.

Bobby jumped away from him.

Dean looked at him confused.

“Your eyes.” The mystery man supplied, “You haven’t learned to keep them human yet.”

Dean turned to apologize, and saw Bobby pocket a flask, he had been about to throw holy water on him. Dean couldn’t blame him. He was a demon after all. Dean frowned, he had stepped into the hall, and he wasn’t stuck.

Bobby grinned, “Broke most the traps.”

Dean grinned back at Bobby, “It is me.” he assured Bobby, “I don’t feel much different, I mean besides the Hell part.”

Bobby nodded solemnly.

“Now who is the fucker who knows so much?” Dean asked, his arm still itching to hold the shotgun, if only to have a weapon near him again.

“I am Castiel, I am an angel of the Lord. I am the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition.”

Dean would have had him say that all over again just to hear the words come from those lips.

“Angel?” Dean smirked, “Really?” Castiel? What kind of name is that? He was going to have to shorten that.

“What else would have the juice to pull something from Hell?” Bobby asked.

“I thought Sam may have sold-” Dean began.

“Samuel is losing his soul to something much more frivolous than that.” Castiel supplied.

“What?” Bobby and Dean said together.

Castiel’s head tilted to the side in what seemed to be confusion, “Samuel Winchester is losing his soul. He couldn’t force any demon’s to deal with him, they need him intact.”

“Intact? Losing?” Dean crossed the room his blood boiling like in hell, “Tell me everything feathers.” Dean closed his hand around that pretty little neck and slammed the angel against the wall. The plaster cracked and groaned.

There was a crack of gunfire, “Break it up.” Bobby growled. Dean’s hand slid free, and Castiel watched his eyes flicker back to the most beautiful human green.

“Castiel, spill.” Bobby added.

Castiel tilted his head in confusion, “Spill what?”

Dean groaned. Bobby sighed, “Easy Dean, he doesn’t get humans. I meant tell me what you know.”

“The Winchesters are of the utmost importance, I am tasked with protecting the elder brother as well as keeping the younger from damaging his soul any more. Samuel could not deal with demons because they have orders to never lay a hand on Samuel. He is important. He must be protected.”

Dean cut the angel off, “Angels want me, and demons want Sam? Shouldn’t it be the other way?” His eyes flickered to accent his point.

“These are my orders, this is all I know.”

“Losing his soul.” Dean pressed his expression murderous.

“He is ingesting massive amounts of demon blood, giving him the power to exorcise demons with his mind. The purpose, supposedly, to gain revenge against Lilith, the demon who held your contract.”

“He’s what?” Dean asked his hands going slack by his sides.

“This is why he must be made aware of the situation in person. I believe he wouldn’t understand your unique state and might end up trying to kill you.”

Those blue eyes bore into Dean’s, there was no arguing with an entity that he was pretty sure he couldn’t harm. The angel hadn’t even seemed to notice when he had been slammed against the wall.

Dean sighed, “Alright Bobby, you can call him, but don’t tell him I’m here. He’ll just get pissed.”

Bobby kicked the bottom-most stair as he looked anywhere but Dean, “I don’t have his number, he hasn’t called here in months, I haven’t seen him since we put you in the ground.”

Dean hissed, “You haven’t seen him since I died?”

“Boy,” Bobby met his eyes, “You can’t talk sense to a grieving man, he didn’t even burn you. He wanted you to have a body to return to. He left as soon as he saw I wouldn’t help him kill himself to get you back. He told me to lose his number.”

Dean shook his head and stormed into the study, “I’ll find him.”

Bobby followed him, “How? You’ve been gone for how long? He could be anywhere.”

Castiel shook his head, “I can get him.”

Dean lifted a hand to say that he knew his brother better than any angel, but he watched in disbelief as the angel vanished into thin air with a gust of wind and the sound of wings.

“Angel.” Dean whispered. He clutched as his head as his vision blacked out again. He heard Bobby calling to him as if he was under water. He could feel fire on him, and burning hand, gripping him. Light was everywhere. Light was everything. He shrank away, he couldn’t be in such light, and he would dull it. It would be a shame to darken this light, this light was beautiful. He smiled to himself; he could still see beauty, beauty in this light.

Dean woke up on the floor. Bobby leaning over him. “Dean!”

“Bobby I’m fine.” Dean pushed the older man away from him, and he tried to clear his vision.

Suddenly there was a gust of wind and the sound of wings rustling. Dean heard the sound he had been aching for, “Dean?”

“Sam.” Dean held his head as he stood slowly to look at his brother. “It’s me.”

Sam looked at Bobby for confirmation and he shook off the Angel’s grip, “Who’s the treky? I shot him and he didn’t even looked tickled.” Sam asked obviously seeing all the confirmation he needed in Bobby’s face.

“Angel.” Dean muttered. “Sam, I have to-” he began before his younger brother had enveloped him in a hug.

“Dean.” Sam sounded like he had just come home for Christmas after a three-year tour.

       “Sammy.” Dean hugged him back letting his eyes fall closed and letting himself forget for a moment.

       “Sam.” Bobby’s gruff voice sliced through his moment in time, “We need to explain this.”

       Sam leaned back to look at his brother and staggered back, fumbling with his pockets to find a knife, because Dean had opened his eyes. His demonic eyes. “Get the fuck out of my brother you son-of-a-bitch.” Sam growled. He lunged forward, only to find his arm caught by the supposed angel. He found the smaller man’s grip was like iron, he might not be an angel, but he certainly wasn’t human.

       “That is your brother Samuel.”

       “That’s a lie.” Sam growled.

       “Sammy, it’s me, I promise.” Dean’s black eyes flickered back to green as he took deep breaths.

       “No.” Sam gulped and his eyes flickered to Bobby, who seemed to be calm, “No that’s not.” His voice trailed off tears were leaking from his eyes.

       “Sammy.” Dean bit his lip, “Sammy you need to tell me about Lilith.”

       Sam’s eyes widened more, “Only a demon would know that!” He tried to shake the ‘angel’ off of him, but it was like trying to move a wall.

       “Or an angel.” Castiel supplied.

       “Angel.” Sam breathed.

       “Yes, I am an angel of the Lord, and I failed your brother. I did not save him in time. There was an attack; all of my brothers and sisters fell. I alone made it to Dean. He was beyond repair.” Castiel blinked, “I did manage to save the last sliver of his humanity. His love for family. He held on to that the longest.”

       Dean ignored that this angel was sharing the innermost parts of his soul with his kid brother, and instead just listened to the sound of his voice.

       “I’d say you still saved him, he’s here, mostly.” Bobby offered to the angel. He sounded terribly depressed for a supposed celestial being. If he had truly lost his brothers and sisters in Hell Bobby was surprised he was functioning at all.

       “That’s not my brother.” Sam yelled. “It’s not!”

       Castiel watched as Dean’s soul flashed with pain. He could still see it, twisted and blackened, but he could also see that sliver of pure Dean that shone through. The beautiful sliver of the deep green soul.

       “It is.” Castiel heard himself say as he stared unblinkingly at Dean, watching the green slip and dance throughout the black pain. “So beautiful.” he heard himself whisper.

       Dean took a tiny step back, “What?” He must have misheard the angel. Had he just called Dean beautiful? Where the hell had that even come from? Who does that?

       Sam tried to pull himself free again, and found that he was still caught firmly in the angel’s grip. He threw caution to the wind he would save his brother. He lifted his free hand and began focusing his energy. Ruby said it was concentration that he lacked, well he would never be so focused again in his life.

       Castiel watched in horror as Dean’s soul exploded in agony. “Stop it!” his voice boomed. It seemed to startle the younger Winchester. Castiel focused on his human vision. Dean was bleeding and gasping on the floor. “That is your brother. You are only hurting him.” Castiel placed his free hand on Samuel’s forehead and crammed the boy with angelic vision. “Look at your brother.

       Sam’s head was exploding and his veins were on fire, but he saw Dean’s soul spiking and twisting in agony. He watched with horror as he took in the pain and blackness, until he saw what the angel was talking about. There was a tiny sliver of the purest green swirling it’s way through the blackest black of his soul.

       Castiel removed his hand and Sam slumped in the angel’s grip, “Dean?” Sam’s voice was thick with pain.

       Bobby swallowed, “This is a whole new level of crap.”

       “I’m going to have to ask you never to do that again Sammy.” Dean croaked.

       Sam felt tears sliding down his face, “Never Dean.” He felt Castiel release his arm and he dropped the knife to the floor as he pulled his brother into another hug.

       “It’s okay Sammy, it’s okay. I’m here.” Dean muttered hugging his kid brother to him, “I’m not going to leave you.”

       Castiel took in a long breath, he had seen Dean doing this in order to calm down, and the angel needed to calm down. He had never seen anything as beautiful as Dean’s soul the second that Sam had hugged him. Love. It was so unbelievably stunning. He almost lost his control of his wings as they fluttered uncomfortably with this emotion. Castiel was experiencing an emotion. This demon was going to be the death of him.

 

       Castiel stood silently in the middle of the study as the two Winchester brothers slept. Sam spread over the couch and Dean lying draped over the desk, a bottle of whiskey dangling from his fingers. He held on to his humanity with such fire, Castiel thought there might be hope for the demon; if he could force himself to sleep he was closer to human.

       He watched Dean’s soul struggle with sleep it was violently attacking itself. The sliver of green was fighting admirably, and Castiel knew it would last the night, but the nightmare Dean must be having. Castiel crossed the room and placed two fingers on Dean’s forehead, the man slumped and the bottle crashed out of his hand. Castiel winced, Dean was soundly asleep now, but such a noise might have awoken the other brother.

       

       Sam slit his eyes open, the angel was leaning over Dean, his fingers pressed gently against Dean’s forehead. Dean seemed to relax like he had been dosed with a round of heavy painkillers and sleeping pills. At least the angel was helping. The whiskey slid from Dean’s now slack hand and smashed on the floor. The angel tensed and turned to inspect him. “I’m already awake.” Sam whispered.

       

       “I apologize.” Castiel grumbled he had hoped that the younger one was asleep. The soothing of a soul was incredibly intimate for angels, and he hadn’t wanted Dean to know he had interfered.

       “Don’t you’re helping him.” Sam muttered softly knowing that Castiel could hear him.

       Castiel liked to think that he was not a curious angel, that would lead to his doom, but a question nagged at him so he asked, “May I look at your soul?”

       Sam looked surprised, “You mean people don’t look like that to you all the time?”

       Castiel was confused, of course not, “No, only if I have a connection with the soul.”

       Sam looked displeased as Castiel crossed the room to stand closer.

Dean twitched in his sleep, his fingers reaching out to the back of the angel; Sam thought he had best not mention this to the angel or the demon. “Is it private?”

       Castiel spoke softly so as not to disturb Dean, the demon’s humanity cried out for Castiel to remain closer to him, “Yes, it is.”

       “Dude, we just met.”

       “Yes.” Castiel just looked at Sam, waiting for an answer.

       “Oh, why the hell not. Go ahead.” Sam didn’t want to hear about it turning demonic like the angel said it would be, but he wanted to know how bad it was. He needed more power to take out Lilith, regardless of the toll on himself, but it would be nice to know the risks. Castiel’s eyes seemed to turn even more blue as he looked unblinkingly at Sam.

       

       Castiel thought Dean’s soul was beautiful, so he supposed Sam’s was as well, as far as it reminded him of Dean’s. While Dean’s was like the green of overgrown lilies in a garden pond, Sam’s was more like the green of a blade of grass caught in an early frost, even their souls resonated as brothers.

       While Dean’s was almost engulfed with the blackness and the twisted agony of hell Sam’s was relatively untainted. However, it seemed that the humanity in Sam wasn’t fighting the demonic influence; Dean’s was waging a constant war.

       Castiel blinked and suddenly he could see the younger Winchester looking up at him expectantly, he paused before he spoke, suddenly stuck with the realization that he had referred to this man as ‘Sam’ in his thoughts. When did he start doing that?

       “So, how bad is it?”

       “It’s better than I thought it would be with the amount of demon blood you have taken.” Castiel paused unsure if he should continue, “But while Dean’s humanity is grossly outnumbered it is struggling, yours is almost inviting the demonic influence.”

       Sam’s frown deepened, “Alright.” he paused, “Don’t tell Dean.” He closed his eyes and cut off the conversation.

       Castiel was alone in the room again. To think about his orders.

 

       In the morning Bobby woke the boys by yelling at Castiel, “The hell angel, you stand there all night?”

       “Yes.” was the gravely reply.

       “Not one for idle chatter.” Bobby said stomping his way down the stairs.

       “No.” Castiel added his bright blue eyes looking perfectly well rested as he looked at the older hunter.

       Dean groaned, “Morning? Fuck mornings.” He rubbed his eyes and they were seemingly stuck black since he was still half asleep.

       Castiel gulped slowly before saying, “Sexual intercourse with a time of day is impossible.”

       Sam chuckled from the couch, “It’s almost worth keeping him.”

       Dean slumped out of the desk chair and looked at the floor by the desk. There was a stain from the whiskey but there wasn’t any glass.

       “I picked up the glass, it seemed dangerous.” Castiel added noticing Dean’s attention.

       “Mmm, thanks Cas.” he stumbled to the kitchen to find something to eat.

       Castiel let him walk past, still trying to understand this attraction to the demon, when he realized that Dean had called him ‘Cas’. He liked it.

       “Bobby there’s no food.” Dean whined from the kitchen as he draped his upper body across the door of the fridge.

       Castiel opened his mouth to offer to go and get some when Bobby spoke up, “That’s because I ain’t feeding you.”

       Sam sighed, “You have a job? We just got Dean back, and he’s kinda got some adjusting to do, plus we need to ditch the angelic baby sitter.”

       “You ain’t losing that angel on your shoulders, he’s stuck like glue on Dean, learn to deal. Meanwhile there’s a hell of a ghost problem two states over.” Bobby walked to the kitchen to kick the fridge door out from under Dean’s elbows. He was thankful that the eyes that laughed up at him were green like he remembered them being.

       “We’ll never know if I’m job ready until I’m in the field.” Dean added walking back into the study, “And who knows, maybe Cas will be helpful.”

       Sam sighed, “Alright, but if he’s a liability he stays in the car.”

       Castiel and Dean spoke in unison, “Yes.”

       Bobby burst out laughing, “Oh, you three, this will be interesting.”

       Dean rolled his eyes and turned to Sam, “Where’s my Baby?”

       Castiel’s head tilted to the side in confusion, at least the angel had one emotion down, Dean thought bitterly.

       “At my hotel.” Sam looked pointedly at Castiel; “It’s actually only a few hours from here. Bobby want to fill in the details?”

       Bobby nodded, he gave the boys the normal rundown of the case, but Dean wasn’t listening. His vision winked in and out. He saw blue eyes, he saw they look through a curtain of blood; there was so much blood. It wasn’t red, it was gold, but he knew it was blood. Blood everywhere. He felt a hand on his forehead and once his vision returned he was greeted with another pair of pristine blue eyes mere inches from his face. Castiel had a hand on his forehead and stood practically on top of him. His face was so close. Dean could just lean forward and, “Dude, what the hell?” Dean jumped backwards. “Personal space Cas.”

       Castiel didn’t understand, Dean had just been screaming for him, his soul practically grabbed him and forced him to intervene. But Dean yelled at him for doing what he asked.

       Sam sighed, this was going to get old fast. “Let’s go.” Demons and angels everywhere.

       Castiel tilted his head to the side still looking intently at Dean. “Alright,” he took a step back so he could just barely brush his fingertips on Dean’s arm and he placed his hand on Sam’s arm.

       Then they were outside the hotel.

       Dean slumped to the ground, “Good God.” He felt like throwing up and passing out on the ground, his knees buckling under him.

       Sam held onto a post for support and looked slightly green, “Let’s never do that again.”

       “Agreed.” Dean nodded. He stood slowly and began looking for his Baby. He spotted her almost immediately, “Oh Baby, I will never leave you again. Was Sammy nice to you Baby? Did he drive you right?”

       Castiel glared at the black metal machine, why was it so special? “Baby? Is that not a car?”

       “Dean’s a little bit attached to it.” Sam supplied.

       “I do not understand.”

       “Of course not Cas. You don’t love.” Dean said patting the hood of the car.

       “Love?” Castiel tilted his head again, and appeared in the back seat of the car waiting for the brothers to join him. Was the beautiful demon right? Did he not understand love? How could a demon understand it, while he could not?

       Dean took the keys from Sam and gingerly unlocked the doors, he slid into the drivers seat, and Castiel watched his soul burn like it did when Sam hugged him. Was this love? He did not understand the emotion, but he did know he wanted to watch Dean’s soul burn like that more often. He even entertained the ideas of him being the cause, and the soul being untainted by evil. Sam returned to the car throwing a bag into the floorboard and pocketing the room key.

       Dean grinned at his brother, his eyes flickering a little, “You even kept my tape player.”

       “You gave me hell before.” Sam sighed.

       Dean pushed his tape in and suddenly the car was filled with booming classic rock. Both brothers burst out laughing because for the first time they had seen Castiel startled.

       “Must it be so loud?” Castiel asked.

       “Driver picks the music,” Dean began.

       “Shotgun, and backseat, shuts his cakehole.” Sam finished.

       Castiel stared at the brothers, was this normal brotherly behavior? His brethren were a poor example for him to compare with. They were notoriously detached, emotionally distant. They all saw Castiel as a loose cannon, one that was broken in some way, because he was so emotional.

       This hunt was important to the relationship that they might build; Castiel knew he must prove him usefulness, this knowledge made him uneasy. He knew the brothers preferred to use guns, and he had almost no training with firearms, he was much more comfortable with knives and swords. He felt a little out of place knowing that in this form he couldn’t summon his blade of holy fire, no matter how strong the vessel, it would burn away at it’s flesh. Humans weren’t meant to withstand holding such a weapon. He also knew that he couldn’t shed his Jimmy and take his battle form, it would likely burn the Winchester brother’s eyes out of their skull and extinguish their souls forever. That could never happen, Dean’s soul was too beautiful and those green eyes--Castiel ended that thought abruptly. That could never happen because it would be against his orders. That is what he meant.

       Dean parked the Impala outside of an older apartment building, the plastic children playthings littered the tiny dead lawns and the streetlights flickered softly. “This is the address.”

       The Impala’s soothing growl ceased and Dean pocketed the keys, feeling a bit more like him, while Sam unfolded himself from the passenger seat. “Hey Cas you gonna get out?” Dean asked knocking on the window.

       “Yes.” Came the rumble of the angel’s voice from behind Dean, outside of the car.

       “How?” Dean spun around to find Castiel almost on top of him.

       “I do not need to open doors.” Castiel’s unblinking blue eyes started to freak Dean out; it was like he was staring into his soul, he might be.

       “Right, well, just don’t get in our way.” Dean brushed past him to open the trunk; he pulled out his favorite sawed-off and closed the trunk once Sam had grabbed his.

       Castiel noticed that a weapon was not offered for him, and he wondered if the demon thought he was useless with a gun, he wouldn’t have been wrong. Yet, somehow, this bothered the angel. “Do I not need a weapon?”

       “Angel.” the demon shrugged as he walked to the house, his eyes not even sparing Castiel a glance, but the angel knew better. The demon’s soul spiked and called for the angel to follow him closely. Castiel wondered if the demon was even aware of his soul at all, or if the man was just ignoring it.

       Sam knocked on the door, and an older woman answered, “What do you want?” she snapped.

       Dean gave an award-winning smile, “Ma’am we are here because the super said you had leaks?”

       Castiel opened his mouth to ask Dean why they were lying when the demon turned his head to flash black eyes at him. The angel got the message loud and clear, he was supposed to be quiet, but it worried him that they were telling this woman a falsehood.

       “Leaks? I don’t know about none.” The woman began to shut the door when Dean lost his patience.

       “Look lady, I need into this apartment.” his eyes must have flickered black again because the woman took a step back in fear. “Please.” Dean took a deep breath.

       “What the hell?” the woman whispered.

       “Hell.” Dean said dryly.

       Maybe they shouldn’t have taken a case this early, maybe Dean wasn’t ready, maybe Sam wasn’t, Castiel decided to take matters into his own hands. He pushed past the brothers and laid two fingers on the woman’s forehead. She collapsed on the ground.

       “Cas!” Dean exclaimed.

       “She is only sleeping.” the angel explained, “She will awaken in a few hours.”

       Sam whistled, “That’s handy.”

       “Assuming we are done in a few hours, who knows which apartment the thing is in, we can’t put them all to sleep.” Dean’s green eyes were eclipsed in panic stricken black. Castiel placed one hand on Dean’s shoulder, soothing his soul with his grace, and Dean’s green eyes flickered back.

       “That works.” the taller Winchester whispered.

       “What? That can’t work.” Dean answered, mistakenly thinking that his brother was talking about knocking out all the tenants.

       “The soul thing.” Sam spoke before thinking and his mouth snapped shut.

       Green eyes narrowed at the pair of unearthly blue ones, “Soul thing?”

       The angel dropped his hand, “You asked me to?” he looked confused as he hand curled into a fist at his side. “Your soul called out for me.”

       Dean turned around abruptly and stalked into the apartment without a word. Castiel turned to Sam for an explanation of this behavior, “He doesn’t like that kind of stuff. No emotions. No feelings.”

       Castiel opened his mouth to explain that Dean was extremely emotional but Sam had already followed his brother into the apartment.

Castiel had every intention of putting every human they came across asleep, however, it was not necessary. The ghost of young Amy Price was haunting that very apartment, the small and seemingly angelic six year old having been salted and burned, the angel found himself in the back of the Impala again.

       He had been next to useless on the hunt, and it worried him that perhaps the brothers did not need his assistance at all. Maybe, he was useless; perhaps this is why such a seemingly important task was given to one so inexperienced as he.

       Dean seemed more annoyed than ever, “I can’t even fucking pack my own bullets!” he growled his hand still burning from where the stray salt had hit his skin.

       Sam was laughing softly from his seat, “I’ll do it.” The younger brother turned to look out of the window as they sped back to Bobby’s.

       Castiel was worried about Sam, Dean’s soul wasn’t gaining any ground in its struggle, but Sam’s was losing. Even now the blackness had spread even farther. Soon he would be just as demonic as his elder brother. Then who would pack their weapons?

       Castiel let his mind wander as the road blurred outside of the window, a few drops of rain fell against the glass, and soon there was the kind of rain that fell in sheets.

       “I wonder why Bobby set us on this hunt, it’s hardly the ghost crisis he painted when were at the house.” Dean muttered to Sam.

       “Maybe it was our test run.” Sam replied his eyes fluttering shut as he fought to stay awake on the ride back to the aforementioned house.

       The road was even more mind numbing this time, Castiel found his gaze wandering back to the man driving, watching his muscles relax and tense as he drove. He found himself wondering what it would look like if the demon were driving without the thin fabric of his tee-shirt covering his tanned skin.

       Sam was clearly asleep, since his snores had filled the cab of the car, and the angel could see another section of his soul flicker out and be replaced with darkness.

       Castiel spoke, the rumble of his voice cutting through the silence, “Dean?”

       Dean jerked the steering wheel in surprise, “Damn it, Cas!” he cried correcting the car and muttering an apology to his ‘baby’.

       “Dean?” the angel asked again, the silence of the car made his ears hum and his brain race, “Sam’s soul is dying.”

       Dean pulled the car to the side of the road and shut off the engine. There was so much more silence now, the hum of the Impala was gone, and the night was still all around them. Castiel jumped at the sound of Dean’s seat belt unclicking and his door opening and slamming shut. Obviously the eldest Winchester meant for him to follow, so the angel did, and appeared at his side in a rush of wings and wind. The night outside of the Impala was screaming and rioting inside of the angel’s skull, the pinpricks of the stars winked around the clouds that hid the moon from them, and a subtle wind brushed past them while they stood there.

       “Dude, stop staring.” Dean finally spoke.

       Castiel blinked, he had been staring, deep into those green eyes. Those sinfully, perfectly, green eyes. “I apologize.”

       Dean sighed, “Never mind, he’s getting worse isn’t he?”

       Castiel nodded slowly, “The amount of demon blood he had devoured seems to have tainted his soul, it’s almost like he has drank more since I first saw him.”

       “That’s not possible, we’ve been with him the whole time.”

       “I am uncertain, Sam is not what I would call the normal case of demonic possession. He is even more abnormal than your case. He, as far as I know, has always possessed some demonic blood. It is his embrace of it that has turned his soul. You were force-fed the demonic influence.”

       “Embrace?” Dean asked not looking at the angel.

       “Yes,” there was a creak of metal as Castiel leaned against the hood of the Impala, “For all intensive purposes Sam has chosen this state. Out of revenge. His soul is blackening at a rate I can’t fathom. He is almost as dark as you. Soon he will manifest the same demonic qualities you loathe: the eyes, the aversion to salt and holy fire, the binding power of the devil’s traps.”

       Dean slowly lifted his hands to his face and roughly covered his eyes, his soul twisted in anguish, “Can’t it be fixed?”

       “I’m afraid there is little I can do, he would have to cure himself so to speak, you are doing that right now.”

       “I’m f-fixing myself?” his words breathy and stuttering as he gasped for a deep calming breath.

       “You are much stronger than you give yourself credit for Dean Winchester.” Castiel felt almost proud as he said that, “You are defying the very nature of Hell itself.”

       “If I can do it.” Dean paused and absentmindedly kicked the tires of the Impala with the heel of his boot, “If I can do it, Sammy certainly can. Come on Cas, we have to make it to Bobby’s soon. I have a bad feeling.”

       Castiel reappeared in the back seat of the Impala his focus was intently fixed on the younger brother’s soul, yet another segment had flickered out.

       Soon enough they were pulling into the gravel drive that lead to Bobby’s house. Castiel’s mind was still buzzing as he thought about the younger Winchester’s state. It must be getting worse by the minute, soon there would be no green left. Dean leaned over the passenger’s seat and shook his brother awake. “We’re here.”

       Dean gasped in shock, “Sam!”

       Castiel didn’t have to ask what was wrong; he knew already, the younger Winchester had awoken with demon-black eyes.

           

BONUS  
  


“What the hell?” Sam asked, his eyes flickering shut again, and two gigantic hands covering his ears.

“Sammy!” Dean cried, and in his panic punched his brother in the stomach.

Sam’s immediate reaction was his jet-black eyes opened and curses streamed from his mouth, “Fucking bitch, what in the hell was that for?”

“Your eyes.” Dean whispered.

Sam’s fist froze inches from Dean’s unprotected face. “My what?”

“You have demon eyes.” Castiel supplied from outside of the car. He had obviously flown himself out, because the seatbelt dropped, still fastened, back against the seat. “Also, I am fairly certain that Robert Singer is not here.”

“Bigger problems.” Dean hissed.

“Alright, shall I take care of the hunters circling the car then?” Castiel asked lightly.

That got Dean’s attention, his head snapped up, there were hunters surrounding the Impala. A few faces he recognized, and that made his stomach drop, they weren’t the kind to ask questions before shooting. He and his brother needed to not be here.

“Cas.” Dean muttered slowly reaching for his gun.

“Dean I am fully capable of handling myself. Do you want them alive?”

One balding hunter laughed, “One scrawny thing against five of us?”

“I don’t know them.” Dean muttered, he doubted that angel’s liked being underestimated.

One fired a gun, the angel let the shot hit him to protect the side of the Impala. If the car was that important to the demon then it needed protection. The hunters stumbled in collective shock.

“That didn’t do a damn thing.” muttered one of the younger men.

“What the hell is it? A demon?”

“No I used salt.”

Castiel seemed to have lost his patience. “Cover your eyes Winchesters.”

Dean didn’t see what happened from behind his eyelids, but judging from the noise they were instantly blown apart, even from behind his eyelids he could see the light coming from the angel. He also watched the light dim, “Cas?”

“You may look now.” Came the deep gravel tone of the angel’s voice.

“What did you do?” Dean asked opening his car door and worming his way out of the seat belt. There were the bodies lay around the Impala, their eyes burned out of their skulls. “Damn it Cas I thought angels were supposed to be good.”

“I’m a soldier Dean. I follow orders. I am supposed to protect you.” Castiel replied, he seemed confused that the elder Winchester seemed upset.

“You could kill us that easy?”

“I know for a fact you could kill a man twenty different ways with a paperclip.” Castiel replied dryly.

Dean struggled with the urge to laugh. He spun back around to look at his brother, who seemed to be hyperventilating with his hands covering his eyes. “Sammy?”

Dean rushed to the other side of the car, stepping on the lifeless body of one of the fallen hunters in his haste, “Sammy?”

He ripped the door open and held his brother’s shoulders, “Sammy talk to me.”

“Dean, I’m,” Sam paused, “I’m a demon.”

“Welcome to the club.” Dean smiled weakly, “Feathers says you can fight it, we can fix it.”

Sam shook his head, “You can fight it, I’ve had this blood in me my whole life. This is what I am.”

“Bullshit.” Dean looked at the angel for help.

“I do not know, he would have to want to fight it.” Castiel appeared suddenly behind the brothers, “We should leave. Robert Singer is not here.”

“Why isn’t Bobby here?” Sam asked, momentarily distracted, and looking up at the house through the sea of broken parts and rusty cars.

“An errand?” Dean guessed, knowing full well that it wasn’t the case.

“No.” Castiel added aloud, “He was forcibly removed.”

“You can’t know that.” Sam hastened.

“I can.” Castiel’s voice was a few shades rougher and deeper with annoyance, “His soul was greatly distressed when he left here.”

 

 


End file.
